The Story of Prim Everdeen
by kimmyko-san
Summary: The war with the Capital was over. Katniss and Peeta continued forth with their lives, hoping to gain a sense of peace they hadn't had before and for a while, they did. Our two heroes grew up, and as such, children endued. Children almost being a promise that it was a new beginning. However, will old ghosts rise again? The question is, how do you win the next games?
1. Chapter 1

District twelve; An Icy Winter's Day.  
My mother's cries of anguish wake me. I find my fingers stiff from gripping the bed sheet I hadn't realized I had been holding. The cries tend to happen when the weather changes to cold, it's the days my father holds mother in their bed. Their bodies huddled together as mother shivers, her grey eyes having a glossy far away stare as father's face is furrowed in concentration. Today is one of those days.

-  
I breathed out into the cold air. The house was ghostly when mother wasn't up and awake. Our mornings would normally consist of a warm breakfast made together by mother and father. Mother would at times sing, and when she did, we would all hold our breath in wonder. The kind of wonder that made me want to cry joyous tears, and never breath again if it meant the song could continue. Today, however, the house lacked the warmth it tended to radiate. "Gooo.." a child's gargle brought me back to my little brother's hand tugging on the white sleeve of my fluffy jacket. I smile at him. He is too little to understand, a mere three years, but for now I have to watch him for a bit. Mother won't leave her bed until whatever torments her leaves, and father isn't likely to leave her side, but call for us to comfort her as well.  
"Prim! Finny!" Our father calls. Its time. I stand up slowly, watching the thin layer of snow fall down and my warm breath make small wisps of smoke against the frosted air. I don't want to go inside just yet. Its never fun to see my mother in such a state. "Prprprp" Finny giggles, making bubbles with his salva. "Lets go Finny." I say, though he looks at me in a questioning way. It makes me wonder if he doesn't understand being called by his name yet. I take his own small hand in my own, and lead him inside, off the porch I had sat on. Once inside, I peel away the layers of snow clothes I had dressed him in before going outside before taking off my own. "Prim! Finny? our father called again, his steps indicating that he was approaching. We worried him by now. I couldn't tell if he was surprised to see us, or if he was just disoriented.

"Prim please, just answer next time okay?" He said, his shoulders coming down in an unseen blanket of fatigue. "Okay." I said softly. The sense of dread veils the house and as my father leads me and fin into our mother's room, I decide that I should keep a diary.


	2. Chapter (1) : The Start Of The New Games

Monday, December 13th, year - - - -  
I would like to say that I have great adventures to write in here. That I have a great background of my mother being a forgotten princess and my father being the brave knight willing to rise life and limb for her. Unfortunately, my life is quiet. Happy and content, but there are days where I crave to run off. To run into the budding forest and explore everything it has to offer. I know I shouldn't want this, but how long can I sit drawing in the ground with a stick before my imagination gives into boredom? Mom tells me I shouldn't venture where I'm not safe and protected. I always ask from what and she never answers. She gives me a curious look before she shakes her head and sighs. Reminding I'm a child, but I have to say, while I am a child in many ways, there are other ways I'm not. I remember thinking of writing in a book myself when I was younger, but it wasn't until now that I found out there are just some things that can't be spoken about to others. At my thirteenth year of living, I've come to understand there are just somethings I can't talk about without being left in the dark like usual, or receiving a scolding.

Right now for example, my mother is singing the "Hanging Man" song to Finny in the next room. It gives a eerily sense of calm, now that I can understand the words. When I was younger, much like Finny, the words would lull me into sleep without a single thought on what the words meant. Now, if I ask, mom looks worried. Telling me when I'm a little older. I don't know how old I have to be to gain access to the growing lists of secrets my parents have.

Now that I look back, I actually wrote more than I had expected and haven't even wrote about my day. Not that I had an exciting day. Just another usual day. Mainly waking up having breakfast, having some lessons on how to write and read, at the end of the day it is the best part. Nearing the end of the day, just a few hours before the sun sets, all the children are allowed to come with our family into the edges of the forest. Its not too deep inside it, just enough to be able to run out in case someone gets scared(which happened to Billy Hetcher last week, making my father run after him for comfort), or if there is a danger. What danger that could exist there is beyond me, besides a wild deer or some kind of wild dog.

It truly is beautiful, the setting sun sending honey warm rays into the green tree tops, making them look as if they were hiding pearls in the leaves. The smell of nature around us, everyone quiet to the calming silence. As if to say goodbye to the sun, and thank it for the beauty it gave us. "For another day we had been graced with", my father's words. Everyday he says the same thing, just at the final minutes, the final seconds of the day. "Peeta..." Mom will in turn sigh, her hand coming to entangle in dad's.

It was those moments where I understood that sometimes mom and dad lived in their own worlds. And that at special times such as a setting day, they would connect in a way that I don't understand yet.

I wonder if one day I will get the answers I want. For now, I think I've made this too long.

Prim Everdeen.


End file.
